


Two Omegas

by Bluesummers



Series: Two of a Kind [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom!Quentin, Canon Gay Character, First Time, I Don't Even Know, Insecurity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Eliot, Omega Quentin, Omega Verse, Omega/Omega, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Slash, Smoking, first heat, top!Eliot, two omegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesummers/pseuds/Bluesummers
Summary: Quentin thinks he needs an alpha. Eliot thinks otherwise.





	Two Omegas

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, two omegas. What more can I say?  
> This is also a - admittedly unorthodox - top Eliot.  
> As usual, written for the books but can be enjoyed by all!  
> So enjoy! And thank you for the kudos and comments, they are very much appreciated!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own The Magicians.

 

 

He knew this was coming. He was the right age, he had seen others go through the process quite a few times by now, hell, he even expected to present as an omega. But nothing has prepared Quentin for _this_.

The sudden warmth that spread from his core to the rest of his body, causing his mind to blur and his muscles to weaken. The feeling of helplessness as he sank to his knees, and then to his side, curling down on the rough carpet. The overwhelming need suddenly burning inside of him, making him squirm and sigh and uncontrollably weep with want. He felt this terrible emptiness, his body begging to be filled, and all Quentin could do to try and ease it was rock his hips against the ground. It did nothing to relieve his distress.

He'd always thought he would be able to handle this, control it even, that he wouldn't be as pathetic as the others. He'd imagined himself spending the few uncomfortable days of his rut locked up in his room, reading, as he had always done with everything else in his life. And now he was lying on the cottage floor, panting feebly, another omega overtaken by his heat.

Rain was pounding against the foggy windows, but the air around Quentin felt hot and humid and suffocating. He wanted his shirt and sweater off. He was heavily sweating underneath his clothes, and in the back of his pants the sweat mixed with his leaking slick and ran down his thighs. He groaned with agony and desire.

A shadow fell on his face, and Quentin turned his head to the library's entrance in sudden hope that his alpha savior would be standing there, lured by his scent, filled with lust and ready to answer his every need.

But it was Eliot standing at the door, casually leaning against the frame and blowing out cigarette smoke.

"First heat?" the other omega asked lazily.

"Eliot, please…" Quentin heard himself begging, "I need… I need…" fuck, he needed someone _inside_ him, he needed to get _fucked_. "I need an alpha…" He prayed Eliot would sympathize and go get someone.

"No, you don't," the older omega said, unmoving.

Quentin felt fresh tears rolling down his face. Then the shadow disappeared, and Eliot was gone. Quentin wanted to scream, but all that came out was a faint whimper, and another involuntary roll of his hips against the carpet. Why didn't Eliot help him? Didn't he know what it was like to be so weak and desperate?

Quentin couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something, had to be filled. With weak, unsteady hands he pulled down his jeans and boxers and reached back, pressing three fingers against his wet hole, not waiting before pushing inside.

His burning walls tightened around his fingers, silky and warm, pulling him in. _God, it felt amazing to have something there_. But at the same time, it wasn't enough. He eagerly fucked himself against his digits, trying to reach deeper and deeper while his erect cock rubbed against the rug. Quentin cried with frustration when his actions only intensified his lust. It felt like it would never end, like he will never know relief again.

"Well, I see you started without me."

Quentin froze when he heard Eliot's voice, his face burning. But he couldn't stop for long. Utterly embarrassed, he continued to rock back against his fingers. Shame consumed him as he lay half naked on the floor, trying to pleasure himself while Eliot was watching, but his desire was even greater.

"I bear gifts," Eliot flatly stated as he moved into the room, dropping an opaque bag next to Quentin and kneeling down. "Tsk, not like this," he scolded.

One of Eliot's hands held his cigarette while the other reached for Quentin's pumping wrist, gently taking hold of it and guiding the fingers out of his ass. Then, letting the cigarette rest lopsidedly in his bent mouth, he lifted Quentin's arms up and pulled both shirts over his head.

 _What was happening?_ Quentin lay there with his flushed torso completely bare and his pants and underwear down to his knees, his cock hard and throbbing and his empty hole desperately clenching down on nothing but air. And his alleged friend was just sitting there doing who-knows-what, instead of finding him an alpha who'd go crazy over his smell and take him in his arms and fuck this damned heat out of him. Or… Could it be that… Did Eliot think an alpha wouldn't want him?

He gazed up at Eliot with pleading eyes, but the older boy wasn't even looking. He was busy rolling Quentin onto his back, bending his knees for him, and tracing a long, elegant finger over his drenched opening. Quentin blushed fiercely. Eliot could see _everything_. He wanted to close his legs and hide, but they stayed wide open despite himself.

"Like _this_ ," Eliot said matter-of-factly, eased the digit in, and slowly curled it.

Quentin's eyes went wide. The other omega was _fingering_ him.

"Wh… what are you doing?" Quentin was panicking. This wasn't right, was it? This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "This… We shouldn't… It's not natural…"

Eliot looked at him like he was a silly child, and maybe he was. The other's finger kept wriggling inside him, and soon enough the feeling became pleasant, soothing and stirring at the same time.

Quentin tried to resist. If this were an alpha, he'd probably eagerly succumb, spread his legs and happily let the other man have his way with him. But this was another omega!

Still, Eliot's motions were so much more experienced than his own had been. Then he added another finger, and twisted again, and… _ugh!_ Quentin gasped without a warning. The next time Eliot brushed there, a deep, rolling moan escaped Quentin's lips.

"But… _Ah!_ We… we're both… _Oh… oh… ah…_ This is… _Ah! Eliot! Oh! Ohhh!_ "

Shudders went all through Quentin's body as loud moans kept flowing from his throat. He let his head fall to the side, his heavy breathing quickening, and shut his eyes. The feeling of Eliot's fingers rubbing against that particular spot made him feel like he was floating far, far away. He could almost forget where he was and whom he was with, if not for the hard floor beneath his back and the slick oozing out of him, making Eliot's movement slosh softly. Quentin rocked down against the fingers, asking for more, sighing loudly. It felt good, so good. _Soon, just a few moments longer, and maybe release will finally come…_

Eliot's fingers stopped.

"Think you've got it?"

Quentin opened his eyes and blinked up at Eliot, frightened and confused. _Why? Why did he stop?_

"I… What?"

The other omega took a drag on his cigarette.

"Join me."

Quentin's hazy mind was trying to keep up. He just wanted to lie there and let Eliot take care of him, but he thought he understood what the other wanted. Timidly, he moved his own hand down his stomach, around his cock and back to his ass, where Eliot's fingers were still waiting. He glimpsed at the older boy for confirmation. Eliot raised an eyebrow and nodded.

Slowly, shakily, Quentin felt up his way, tracing along Eliot's forearm, his palm, and following it into his own opening. He inserted two fingers, squeezing them between Eliot's fingers and his inner walls, gradually sliding in further and further. Then Eliot's fingers curled once more, curling Quentin's fingers in turn, right against that perfect spot again. With his eyes still locked with Eliot's, Quentin bucked and gave a needy, broken moan.

And then Quentin's fingers moved all on their own, thrusting and twisting and rubbing. His soft cries were coming out incessantly. He could feel everything everywhere, in and out. Eliot's fingers moving against his, his own hand stroking deep within himself, and that sweet place inside of him nearly bursting at every brush of his fingertips. Heat burned through him and made him shiver. This felt nothing like the few times Quentin had touched himself in the past. It was no exploratory probing. It was pure. Intoxicating. Devouring.

"See?" Eliot said as he suddenly pulled out both his and Quentin's hands. "You don't need an alpha."

 _No... No no no no!_ Quentin almost sobbed. The need and frustration hit him again, hard and agonizing. Why was this happening. Why couldn't Eliot just let him come. A fresh tear rolled down his cheek.

The older boy puffed pale smoke and reached for the bag he brought earlier, not before giving Quentin a small, satisfied smirk. _That bastard!_ Quentin let out a wail.

Then he saw Eliot upend the bag, its contents spilling out onto the floor, and had to swallow hard.

Some were short, some long, some had rings or bulbs or curves in various places and sizes. With a shallow groan, Quentin thoughtlessly reached for the biggest dildo he could spot. A thick, bulbous thing. He needed it, needed it deep inside himself. That large sculptured shaft in front of him was all Quentin could see or think about. But of course, Eliot instantly grabbed Quentin's wrist and held it firmly in place.

"Ahhh!" Quentin couldn’t believe the high-pitched whine he emitted.

"Another time, perhaps," Eliot said and moved closer, picking up a curved, slim vibrator instead.

As Eliot shifted next to him, his groin came into view, and Quentin got a good close look of the bulging tent in his pants. The older omega pretended he was so indifferent… but here it was, right in front of Quentin. It was so obvious, and looked so hard and ready, and Eliot got that from helping him masturbate... Quentin's mouth watered with want.

His mind didn't even register what Eliot was doing until he felt the vibrator press against his ass. It went in easily, sliding smoothly into place, slightly buzzing and pulsating. Quentin kept staring at Eliot's clothed erection, pressed firmly against his elegant, otherwise impeccable pants. He imagined it was the older boy's dick buried inside of him instead of the vibrator, throbbing deliciously and making his walls tighten and his thighs tremble. He tried to picture what Eliot's cock looked like beneath his ironed clothes, its girth and shape, what it would feel like against his own hard length, warm and smooth and heavy. Saliva escaped Quentin's mouth and ran down his face. It was wrong, so very wrong, but all he wanted was for the other omega to fuck him. _Please… please…_

Quentin squirmed and moaned, silently pleading. He could smell himself, sweet and thick in the air around them as he produced more scent in an attempt to make the other lose control and just take him already.

"This doesn't affect me, you know," Eliot commented nonchalantly on Quentin's efforts.

It was true. Quentin acted on instincts meant to seduce an alpha. It was all his frenzied body could do in his current wild, primal state. He had to use his mind, hazy as it was. Thinking was hard. Moving was hard. Even speaking was hard… but he forced himself to anyway.

" _Something_ 's affecting you," he growled as he bit his lower lip, reached up and palmed Eliot, filling his hand with the other's covered cock. Quentin moaned deeply just at the feel of it. He made himself look straight into Eliot's bright eyes even as the vibrator was still pulsing inside of him.

Eliot frowned at him, perplexed, but didn't push Quentin's hand away. So Quentin squeezed lightly and prayed Eliot would just fuck him now, good and hard. He couldn't wait, he was so desperate and weak, he could barely keep his trembling hand up. He was beginning to think Eliot didn't want to, just when the older boy leaned into the touch and sighed.

"Q," he tried, "the whole point of this was not to-"

"You're not an alpha!" Quentin gasped abruptly before losing the last bit of his strength and completely collapsing, heavy and weak, back to the ground.

His eyes were the only power he had left, so he gazed deep into Eliot's eyes with plea and desire. The other's eyes turned dark and hooded. Eliot bowed his head with a sigh and pulled the vibrator out. This time Quentin didn't mind. His legs spread wider, all on their own.

"Here, hold this," the older boy mumbled as he stuck his cigarette in Quentin's mouth.

Quentin held his breath and stared silently, cigarette in mouth, as Eliot slowly undressed.

He drank in Eliot's slim, boyish figure as the other unbuttoned his shirt. Eliot was taking his time, but his hands were shaking with need. With need for _him_. His skin was pale, his nipples pink and erect, his body hair fair and faint across his chest and down from his navel and into his pants. Quentin's lips tightened around the cigarette, crunching it between his teeth. Eliot looked so gentle and frail. He wasn't as heady or as strong as an alpha but he was so… so…

"Beautiful." It was barely a whisper. The cigarette fell from his mouth.

Eliot's hand instantly left his shirt and shot up to his disfigured jaw, covering it. For a brief moment he stared down at Quentin, unblinking.

Then Eliot hurriedly picked up the cigarette and stubbed it out against a nearby chair, leaving a mark. He looked away from Quentin while his hands went back to undoing his button-down and throwing it aside.

Quentin yearned to feel Eliot's covered desire again. To yank down the other's pants and wrap his fingers around the straining length. But he was exhausted, and all he could do was watch as Eliot stood up, tall and lean, and stepped out of his remaining clothes.

Quentin's stare was fixed on the older boy's cock as it sprang out of his underwear, curved and long and flushed. As Eliot kneeled back down, Quentin noticed the thickness near its base, its pulsing vein, the pre-cum accumulating at its tip.

And then Eliot was doing it. Grasping Quentin's leg with one hand and aligning himself with the other. He could feel the head against his entrance, the warmth and wetness of it. Could see Eliot leaning over him. The long fingers were tightening around the sensitive flesh of his thigh. Eliot was pushing forward. He was sliding in, filling Quentin up, until their hips locked, Eliot's balls flush against Quentin's cheeks, their heated skins connecting. Instinctively, Quentin's legs wrapped themselves around Eliot's waist, securing him. The older boy bent lower, already rocking into the rutting omega beneath him.

Eliot may not be an alpha, and may not have an alpha's big thick shaft, but finally Quentin had a real cock in him, hot and beautiful, with a head that grazed just right against him with every roll of the other's hips. He felt it moving inside his body, stretching, filling, stroking. His omega was fucking him.

"Does… does it feel weird?" he tried not to sound as insecure as he felt and failed miserably.

"Not really," Eliot ran a hand through his hair, "after all, I've done this before."

"You… What? You… you've fu… You were with an omega?"

"With an alpha, actually," he attempted an indifferent tone, but was obviously awfully proud of this. "He was curious. Wanted to know what it felt like."

Quentin was beyond shocked. He knew Eliot was way more experienced, but this? Could he even please someone like that? Did fucking him even feel good for Eliot at all?

Suddenly, Quentin did need an alpha, someone to comfort him and tell him he was doing well, that he felt amazing, that he smelled nice, to growl at him… anything, really.

"Don’t worry," the other omega frowned. Quentin's distress must be really showing if Eliot was trying to calm him down. "You'll get your own opportunities to explore."

It was definitely not what Quentin needed, but at least Eliot tried.

Then Eliot grabbed Quentin's hips, tilting them and changing the angle, and that _did_ put an end to his miserable train of thought. Eliot obviously didn't need a huge dick or a knot or anything, he knew exactly how and where to touch Quentin. The older boy moved faster, mercilessly rubbing against that sweet place again and again.

" _Ah_ , yes, right there!" Quentin sighed, overtaken by waves of hot bliss.

"I know," Eliot said, his breathing only slightly labored.

Quentin was losing himself again, knowing nothing but his own wails and quivers. His eyes fluttered shut. Rain was tapping, softly now, on the glass windows, but it was nice and warm inside the cottage, on the carpet, connected to Eliot's perspiring body.

Quentin was a hopeless romantic, deep down inside, and he'd imagined what his first time would be like many, many times. He'd always dreamed about a gentle partner and a slow, affectionate, caring coupling that he would one day think back upon with a smile. And really, what Quentin was having with Eliot right now was more like that sweet fantasy than it ever could have been with a horny alpha. The sudden understanding that he was not at all disappointed by his first-time experience almost amazed him. And when he looked up to see Eliot bent over him, focused on thrusting into Quentin just right, he realized that in his own aloof way, Eliot actually cared about him. Quentin's heart squeezed.

" _Ah_ ," Quentin whimpered at he tried to lift his hand.

"What is it?" Eliot asked in a hoarse whisper.

Quentin closed his eyes again, scared that Eliot will refuse him. "Kiss me…" he sighed.

Eliot's lips were soft as they pressed against his. Quentin has often wondered what it felt like to kiss that mouth. The older boy's lips were wet with saliva due to their odd shape, and Quentin could feel the lower lip's curve as he dared a shy lick with his tongue. But Eliot's movements were skilled as he bit Quentin's own lip and pushed his tongue inside his awaiting mouth, massaging and tasting. It was tender yet deep and surprisingly passionate. It wasn't Quentin's first kiss, but in a way, it felt like it.

The tongue taking hold of his mouth only intensified the pleasure Eliot's cock was eliciting in his ass, and suddenly a tingling sensation somewhere between agonizing pain and unbearable ecstasy was coiling in his very core. Quentin squeezed his eyes even tighter. _Yes, yes, oh, fuck, yes!_

Eliot's grip on Quentin's leg tightened, he shoved himself harder into him, his tongue was thrusting deeper into his mouth in a dominant kiss. Quentin was completely conquered by Eliot and it felt so fucking good. He couldn't stop it even if he tried. The ache and pleasure both exploded from his center to his entire body, making his pelvis tense and his limbs spasm.

He came with a cry, his inner walls convulsing on instinct, clenching down and pulling the cock inside of him even deeper, locking it inside, milking it. Surprised, Eliot lost his balance and collapsed on top of him with a gasp that filled Quentin's ear, jerkily emptying himself into him. Quentin's insides filled with hot liquid.

For a few moments longer Quentin was vaguely aware of Eliot's heavy moans turning soft, of the other's last shallow thrusts as he reached completion, of the warm weight on top of his chest. And then, calm and satisfied, he sank into darkness.

 

 

The pillow was cool and soft under his cheek. The blanket was warm and securing over his back. Quentin's eyes slowly opened to the soft light shining through the bedroom's window, where small raindrops still lingered.

Quentin forced his head to turn the other way, and found Eliot sitting on the bed beside him with his back against the headboard. He wasn't sure how long it's been, but Eliot was already fully clothed again, eating grapes out of a decorated bowl. Quentin felt himself under the covers, discovering he was still completely naked. Maybe Eliot thought it was pointless to put his clothes back on during his heat, or maybe he just couldn't be bothered.

Probably hearing him shift, Eliot looked down at Quentin silently, and then at the bowl. Quentin didn't even realize how hungry he was until Eliot offered him the grapes, which he happily gulped down.

"Do we have any water?" Quentin asked with his mouth full. Eliot just stared at him blankly. "It's that thing that comes out of the faucet."

Eliot sighed and got off the bed. As he moved, Quentin noticed the bag of sex toys on the bed beside him, where he could easily reach it.

"Look, Q, I have some important things to attend to," the other omega announced as he smoothed out his shirt, and Quentin couldn't help but wonder how important those things really were. "Stay in the cottage. It's safe here, and way better than the heat room." At the last words Eliot theatrically shuddered.

Quentin pulled the covers tighter around himself.

"Are you coming back?"

Fuck, he must look so unbelievably pathetic. But Eliot was like that when he was in heat, too, right? Turned on and helpless and needy… Quentin suddenly recalled how the other omega felt and sounded earlier, as he awkwardly came inside of him, moaning and shuddering uncontrollably. It made Quentin blush behind the blanket. The pressure in his stomach was already pooling again.

"Don't worry, I'll come back to check on you later. I'll bring you some water, too."

As an omega, Eliot didn't have the need to stay with Quentin and take care of him after sex. But the older boy was his friend, and if he said he'd come back then Quentin trusted him, more than he did anyone else.

"Wait, Eliot…"

Eliot was already at the door, but he looked back as soon as he heard Quentin's voice.

"Do you… do you think an alpha would, you know, want me?"

Quentin was embarrassed to admit his self-doubt, but he had to know.

"Quentin, look at me. I want you to remember what I'm about to tell you." Eliot took a deep breath. "If you're good enough for me, you're good enough for anyone."

And with that, he turned and closed the door.

 

 


End file.
